


Coming Down: A Kinktober Collection

by smithy_of_words



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober, M/M, Magic, Mild Smut, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithy_of_words/pseuds/smithy_of_words
Summary: A series of fics, some shorter and some longer, for Kinktober 2020.
Relationships: Alistair/Zevran Arainai, Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet, Isabela/Merrill (Dragon Age), Josephine Montilyet/Female Trevelyan, Leliana/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Leliana/Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Day 1: Spanking

“Ah! I-I said I was sorry, h-how many times do you want me to say it?”

Kaia buried her face in the pile of silken pillows in shame.

At least the Winter Palace never skimped on bedding.

Leliana paused, admiring her handiwork-- a series of pink marks on Kaia’s tawny skin.

“Oh, we haven’t even gotten started, my love.”

She ran her fingers through Kaia’s now-damp hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her head back.

“Don’t try to hide from it. Everyone should know how sorry you are.”

Kaia felt a moan bubble up from her throat, a wet spot forming on the sheets where her panties had been removed.

“Please, just…”

_Whack!'_

“Ah—I-I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Please, just—”

Leliana raked her nails down Kaia’s thighs, gripping her hips tightly.

“Please, what?”

Kaia felt her legs spasm beneath her, trying and failing to search for purchase.

“Please…what?” Leliana leant forward, using a knee to force Kaia’s legs from clenching together.

“I’m sorry. P-please, please, I need it. I need you.” She could barely restrain herself from grinding back onto the leg jammed between her.

Leliana hummed thoughtfully. “You know, I’m not sure I’m convinced. Maybe if you spoke up…”

“Please, Leli—I need you!”

Kaia’s face burnt like iron in a forge, but the persistent ache in her core overrode any sense of shame.

She felt the Divine’s rough fingertips and a fleeting thought passed through her mind about sitting for hours in the summit the next day. Maybe she could request another cushion.

All was erased by a quick series of kisses and bites down her spine, eased slightly by small laps of warm tongue.

Kaia grinned broadly, her eyes fluttering shut. “Maker…yes, love.”

Leliana laughed softly. “You’re getting away lightly.”

She stood and loosened her hair from the long pin that had held it in an increasingly messy bun.

“I am mellowing in my old age.”

Kaia bucked her hips slightly, searching for friction—anything to take the edge off.

She found air.

“Leli? Leliana?”

She pushed herself up onto her knees and looked around the darkened room, squinting.

The breeze from the open window made her sweat-soaked skin shiver.

_Thump!_

A pillow came from across the room and thwapped her in the head.

“Ah! What was that for?”

Leliana giggled, feeling like she did when she was young.

“I was getting the bath ready for us. I thought your bottom would appreciate a good soak after.”

Kaia felt herself twitch again, “After? So you still want…”

Leliana shuffled over to the edge of the bed and pushed Kaia onto her back.

“I never stopped wanting.” She regarded the scene before her. “Heh, looks like you didn’t either.”

“I missed you, Leli.” Kaia stared into her eyes. “I didn’t _want_ to leave you, but I _had_ to. Please, you must know that.”

Leliana nodded, a few silver strands falling into her eyes. “I know. I always knew. It didn’t make it hurt any less. But you’re here now, and I don’t intend to let you go again.”

Kaia threaded her fingers through Leliana’s hands and kissed her knuckles gently, bringing both their hands to rest on her dripping core.

“I won’t let go if you don’t.”

Leliana chuckled from deep in her throat, flexing her hand as an answer.


	2. Day 2: Collared

Isabela kicked off her boots in Merrill's entryway, and shook out her dark curls.

Glitter fell to the floor.  
  
"Ah!" She stretched gracefully like a cat, arching her back. "What a party!"

  
  
Merrill giggled, hanging her shawl on the back of a kitchen chair. "I've never eaten so many strawberries in my life. Hawke's mother really is into lavish gatherings, isn't she?"  
  
"Ah, yes. _Lady Amell_ is very into keeping up appearances. The right kind of parties with the right kind of food, entertainment, guests..." Isabela took off her large gold hoop earrings and set them on the kitchen table. "I'm afraid we don't really fit the bill, kitten."

  
  
Merrill poked her head into the kitchen.  
  
"What do you mean?"

  
  
"Well, we're a little chaotic, darling. Too full of real fun. Real life. We should show her a good time."  
  
Merrill snaked her arms around Isabela's waist, pressing her face into her curls and inhaling deeply. The lilac shampoo scent was tinged with sweat from their night of dancing.  
  
Isabela chuckled. "Having fun back there?"  
  
Merrill gave a muffled affirmation.  
  
"Here," Isabela leant over and dug around in her satchel. "Something to keep the fun going."  
  
"Oh?" Merrill arched a perfect eyebrow. "An early birthday present?"  
  
Isabela smirked, displaying a midnight blue velvet ribbon with a jewelled charm in a satin lined box.  
  
Merrill's eyes seemed to sparkle, taking it all in. "Oh, Isabela? You shouldn't have. It's much too lovely!"  
  
"You're still gonna wear it, though, right? It'd be a shame to take this back. I paid real coin for this and all."  
  
"May I--may I try it on?"  
  
Isabela grinned, standing behind Merrill and hooking the clasps together. The ribbon sat flush against Merrill's neck, the charm dangling by the hollow of her throat.  
Isabela walked in a slow circle, taking in the scene before her. "Oh, yes. Nice. Very nice, indeed, kitten."

  
  
Merrill shook her hips gently, enjoying putting on a show in the dim light of the fire, hands running up her sides.  
  
"Like what you see?"

  
  
Isabela pretended to think, humming softly. "Yes, I think you'll do, pet. And after all, every pet needs a nice collar."  
  
She slid off the outer layer of her tunic, letting it pool around her ankles.

  
  
"Is that what I am, your pet?" Merrill grinned wolfishly. "Enjoy telling me what to do?"  
  
Isabela pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her lips with a smile.  
  
"I'd never presume to tell anyone what to do, especially you, kitten. But if you feel like submitting willingly then..."

  
  
Merrill stepped close to her, slipping her arms around her neck. "I know I’m the last of the elvhen. We’re taught never to submit…but I think I'd do just about anything for you."  
  
Isabela reached her arms around Merrill, gripping her hips. "You may regret saying that."  
  
"I don't think so," she purred back, letting her hands drop to Isabela's bottom, pinching softly.

  
  
The fire burnt low in the hearth, casting a golden glow over the room and its inhabitants.  
  
  



	3. Day 3: Ropes

"Are you sure about this, darling? It's not too tight?"

  
  
Leliana twisted her hands around lightly, showing she had just enough freedom and circulation.  
  
"Perfect."

  
Kaia kissed where the ropes knotted around her wrists, the skin already turning pink from the slight friction.  
  
"I have to say, I may just sit back..." she scraped her nails down Leliana's sides gently, watching goosebumps appear. "...and enjoy this a bit more."

  
  
Leliana shifted, her arms straining against the rope.  
  
"Darling, don't be so cruel."

  
  
Kaia laughed sweetly.  
  
"Oh, you've no idea how cruel I can be, if I've the mind."

  
  
"P-please, don't leave me hanging here. Literally or figuratively." Leliana panted, feeling lightheaded already.

  
  
Kaia smirked. "Ah, always had a way with words. Can't wait to leave you speechless." She glanced down at the glistening thatch of red hair between Leliana's legs. "Looks like it won't take much."  
  
Leliana's pale face reddened.

  
  
"Aww," Kaia tutted, gripping her chin to turn her face from side to side. "You look lovely in this light. Glowing."

  
  
"Enough sweet talk. I--ah!" Leliana's words were cut off by Kaia's mouth kissing a trail down her neck. "Shit."  
  
Kaia exhaled softly, amused. "Such language. Not very lady-like. But then...a lady would never find herself in such a situation as this, right?" She licked a wet circle around each of Leliana's nipples. "So exposed like this. Shameless."  
  
Leliana whimpered.  
  
Kaia locked eyes with her. "Still good? Not too much pain?"  
  
"No, no. I'm all right. Thank you, sweetheart. Just p-pl--ah!"  
  
Kaia had heard enough and returned to her onslaught, stroking and tugging, scratching and licking until Leliana quivered, babbling incoherent pleas.

  
  
An arched eyebrow. A question.  
  
A nod. An answer.

  
  
Leliana felt a wail bubble forth from her throat as two fingers expertly parted her wet folds and ground against her.  
  
Maker, she hoped their room's walls were thick. The innkeeper did say it had been quiet lately. Maybe they were alone.

  
  
Kaia's sweet tongue and strong hand put all thoughts out of her mind, and before she realised what was happening, it happened all at once.  
  
"Ahh, shit. Shit!" She clenched around Kaia's hands, her loader moans muffled by a deep kiss.

  
  
Leliana broke away to breathe, panting.  
  
Kaia removed her fingers, licking them clean with an obscene flourish.  
  
"Forgot how good you taste."  
  
"Liar. But you're kind to say so. Untie me?"  
  
Kaia worked the knots free as easily as she'd tied them, kissing the lines they'd left in Leliana skin.  
  
"It wasn't too tight, truly? You're all right?"

  
  
Leliana sighed, pulling her down to curl into her neck. "My darling, I am quite content. Or couldn't you tell?"  
  
"I may need to run more experiments."  
  
"The other patrons may have something to say about that." Leliana was suddenly struck by the volume of her cries. "Maker, I hope I wasn't too loud."  
  
Kaia kissed the furrow from her brow.  
  
"Don't be. You were gorgeous. And anyway, I paid to have the place to ourselves. The owner cleared the place out for two nights."  
  
"Are you serious? How much did that cost?"

  
  
Kaia ran her fingers down Leliana's sides, tickling her as she went. "Oh, to hear the Nightingale sing? It wasn't so great a price."  
  
Leliana grabbed a pillow and gently hit Kaia in the head. "You're always so smooth. A bit too smooth for my liking. A bard has a sense for these things, you know? I reckon you're up to something."  
  
Kaia just laughed, holding Leliana's face as she pressed their foreheads together.  
  
"Hm...perhaps."

  
  
It was a good evening.


	4. Day 4: Praise

The first time he noticed it was when he was serving dinner.

He spooned a ladle of stew into Kaia’s bowl, receiving a bright grin in response.

“Woah, I may be hungrier than normal, but this smells amazing, Alistair!”

He chuckled softly.

“It’s nothing special. Just added some herbs. Wynne showed me.”

Leliana hummed happily, licking her spoon clean. “Well, I for one, will be having seconds later. Well done, Alistair.”

His face prickled in the firelight, and he felt a twinge in his trousers.

Alistair shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m going to…see a man about a Mabari. But feel free to serve yourself.”

He scuttled away to a grove of trees nearby and gripped himself roughly.

_Maker’s breath, what’s wrong with me?_

It didn’t take long for him to spill into his hands.

He sank down to the dirt, rubbing his hands in a patch of grass, grinding mud into his skin.

Maybe it would cover the smell.

Satisfied, Alistair walked back to camp, using a damp cloth to rub the mud from his hands.

Zevran raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze.

He wiped a stray drop of stew from his bowl and licked his fingers.

“Delicious, my friend.”

Alistair focused on his loosening bootlace.

“Ahem. Yes, thank you.”

“Any chance I could…” Zevran trailed off.

“Yes?” Alistair almost squeaked.

“Trade your woodchopping detail for my cooking? I think everyone would be much more appreciative. Plus, the witch will no doubt feel you are less likely to poison us en masse, yes? Maybe she’ll stop pestering me for once.”

Alistair swallowed. “Ah, y-yes. That would be fine. Just fine.”

Zevran stood, clapping him on the shoulders. “Excellent. It is a deal, then. Good man.”

He winked as Alistair shuffled off to his tent, muttering his excuses.

Leliana looked up from where she was scrubbing their cooking pots.

“Don’t tease him so, Zevran. He’s a sweet man. Don’t play with his heart.”

“Who said anything about playing? I assure you, my good woman, I’m quite a serious man.”

This earned him a sharp _whack_ with the back of a spoon.

Alistair sat in his tent until the daylight disappeared, clutching a pillow to his chest.

What was wrong with him? It was like he was a teenager back in the Chantry. How was he supposed to show his face around camp when his arousal could be so readily apparent?

His anxiety was cut short by the sound of someone walking outside.

“Yes?” He croaked.

“Knock-knock,” Zevran poked his head in partway. “May I come in, Warden?”

Alistair flushed up to his ears but nodded, sitting back and moving a pile of blankets and furs to make room.

Zevran crawled in gracefully, sitting cross-legged. He glanced around.

“You Fereldens are so practical. No useless ornamentation here.”

Alistair crossed his arms. “Well, we _are_ fighting a war. I couldn’t really justify bringing the lace curtains.”

Zevran nodded. “I understand. Still, fighting is tough work, no? A more relaxing environment could help you rest better, which would refresh you more for the battles to come.”

“Ah, just concerned for my battle prowess, hm?” Alistair raised his eyebrows. “You’ll forgive my scepticism.”

Zevran scooted closer, running his fingers up Alistair’s arms gently, feeling the man shiver slightly beneath him. “I’ll admit, I’m not entirely guileless. But I do think there’s something to…relaxing. Helps separate things. Keeps your mind focused on fighting when fighting. Renews the spirit.”

Alistairs swallowed. “And that’s what you intend? To help renew my spirits?”

“If you would like that, my dear man. You’re an excellent fighter. But imagine how great you could be, free of your cares?”

Alistair felt his small clothes becoming tight. He licked his lips, considering.

“And…and just how would you suggest I do that?”

Zevran placed a palm on his thigh, brushing his member through his trousers, making Alistair gasp softly.

“If you’d like, you could just lay back. Let me take care of you. Would you like that?”

He stroked his fingers lightly.

Alistair just nodded, his head feeling stuffed full of cotton. He sighed.

“I think I would.”

Zevran felt a small smile form on his face and pressed a quick kiss to Alistair’s forehead.

“All right, then. Lay back and make yourself comfortable.”

He helped moved the furs and pillows around them and knelt before the bastard prince.

_You’ve gone soft in this land, Zevran._

Alistair met his gaze and was surprised by the tenderness there. _It could be a ruse_ , he rebuked himself sharply. But somehow he didn’t think it was, watching Zevran peel the shirt from his chest with a kind of reverence.

“Is it…I mean, I know I’m not a beautiful specimen by any account. Lots of scars and uh…” He trailed off.

Zevran placed a sweet kiss to his latest addition—claw marks where a shriek had nearly taken a piece of his chest in the Deep Roads. It was still tender and pink from the healing, despite Wynne’s best efforts, and tingled slightly at the touch.

“Nonsense. You’re beautiful. And scars only serve to tell stories that words may not always do justice, I think.”

Alistair chuckled, feeling his face burn. “I…thank you. You’re…you’re beautiful too.”

Zevran pressed a wet kiss to his lips. “It is a burden, truly. But someone must bear it. You share the same affliction, I think.” He chuckled.

Alistair began to protest, cut off as Zevran divested him of his trousers and small clothes in one quick movement.

“Maker’s breath!” He exhaled sharply. “That is—”

Zevran ran a finger along the man’s shaft, watching it twitch slightly. “I can stop anytime. You just let me know.”

Alistair didn’t see how his face wasn’t melting from the heat in his cheeks.

“N-no. I…please don’t stop.” He whispered hoarsely.

“All right, then.” Zevran hummed, licking a stripe down his chest to the tip of him before blowing a soft puff of air on the trail.

The cool night air made it tingle, and Zevran smirked, watching Alistair’s panting face.

“Mm…I do love a gorgeous face.”

Alistair found his hand reaching around Zevran, pulling the man against him into a deep kiss, saliva stringing between them.

Zevran groaned deep in his throat. It wasn’t often he was manhandled by someone so strong and charming. It would be easy enough to wrest control back with his tongue and fingers. But feeling his stiff cock burning with friction in his trousers, he decided against it, letting Alistair rub into him.

“You know,” he laughed between kisses. “If I get undressed, this may be more pleasurable for both of us.”

Alistair responded by attempting the same move Zevran had accomplished, but finding the ties challenging.

“Maker damned…stupid Antivan—why do you people wear such impractical things?”

Zevran chuckled and rolled his eyes, assisting him with disrobing. “One day, my dear, I shall teach you to appreciate proper fashion. The Fereldens, for all their good points, could stand to learn a thing or two about it.”

“Well,” Alistair rolled his eyes back, “You’ll never catch me in something so…”

His eyes were transfixed at the straining bulge beneath his hands.

“So?”

Zevran found himself being pulled to the ground in another kiss, his smalls dampening quickly.

How long had it been that this inexperienced fumbling could make him feel like this?

Truly, Fereldens were strange company.

Alistair palmed him through the fabric and pulled them down gently.

Zevran pulled back and looked into his eyes, curiously. Truly, for all this man’s strength, he was gentle. Maybe the kind of ruler more countries needed.

Or the kind who would be killed.

The thought troubled him and he renewed his advances with passion, kissing the slight points in Alistair’s ears.

“Please, please, talk to me. Tell me something, anything I—ah!”

Alistair bit his lip as Zevran held their shafts together, stroking along their lengths, spreading precum and sweat in equal measure.

“You’re so beautiful like this. So exposed for me, showing me this side of you.”

He punctuated each stroked with a fresh kiss—to his neck, his chest, his hair—anywhere he could reach.

Alistair moaned sharply, feeling himself begin to spill.

“Zev—Zevran. I’m—Maker, don’t stop—I’m going…” He panted breathlessly.

“Good. Come for me, my dear. Let me see you.” Zevran ground down slightly, stroking faster until Alistair spilled onto his own stomach with a sigh. “Yes, that’s it.”

Alistair looked at the man above him in a daze. Later, perhaps, he could apologise for finishing so quickly, but his mind was consumed with watching his friend gasp, adding to the puddle on his stomach.

“Maker, ah…” Zevran sighed, his cock still stuttering in his hands. “I needed that. I think…it had been a while for both of us.”

Alistair frowned. “That obvious, huh? I’m sorry.”

Zevran took his small clothes and used it to wipe up what he could of their mess, curling into Alistair’s side like a puppy.

“Don’t feel badly. It was excellent. You are…excellent, my dear.”

Alistair smiled softly, kissing the tip of Zevran’s nose.

“I like it when you say those things about me.”

Zevran kissed his shoulder. “I noticed. Thankfully, I think our party was none the wiser. Your dignity is still intact, I should think.”

A loud clanging came from the centre of camp, where Kaia was banging a spoon against a metal pot.

“Hey, lovebirds! If you’re quite finished, the food’s not going to cook itself, you know!”

Leliana elbowed her softly. “Dear, let them rest. It sounds like they need it.”

Alistair groaned, feeling his face redden again. “Maker…they heard everything, didn’t they?”

“Mmm…shall we give them something to really listen to?” Zevran snaked his arms around his chest. “Round two, perhaps?”

Alistair sat up, hiding his face in his hands. “No, no… I should go cook. After all, everyone says I’m quite good.”

Zevran stood up, helping him to his feet. “That you are, my dear. That you certainly are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written for this configuration of characters or anatomy, so please let me know if you have any helpful suggestions or tips.  
> heh. Okay, enough puns for today.


	5. Day 5: Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josephine and the Inquisitor unwind after the ball at the Winter Palace.  
> Kiran uses a bit of unorthodox magic.

The ball at the Winter Palace showed no signs of coming to a close anytime soon, despite the revelations and battles that had taken place that evening.

Kiran Trevelyan found herself a spot on an isolated balcony to breathe.

It seemed that everywhere in the Palace, the walls had eyes and ears—nowhere was safe.

She sank to the floor, dangling her feet between the marble balustrade.

“Room for one more?” A soft voice called from behind.

Kiran turned sharply, fully expecting to tell the interloper to leave, but sighed and nodded.

Josephine strolled over, satin shoes in one hand and a bottle of red wine in another.

She sat down with a groan and leant into Kiran’s shoulder.

“Maker, what an evening, even for Orlais. My feet feel like they’ll drop off.”

Kiran laughed softly. “Me too. These dress boots were _not_ meant for close-combat, let alone the amount of dancing I did. I’m wondering if closing this hole in the sky is really worth it.”

Josephine snorted. “Perhaps. Wine?” She took a swig and held the bottle toward her.

“Thank you.” Kiran accepted it and gulped several mouthfuls, letting a trail drip down her chin. “Ah, even the wine tastes of despair.”

“That’s Orlais for you, I suppose.” Josephine huffed. “Perhaps I should enquire about getting some proper Antivan vintages sent. I feel loathe to use my connections for personal favours, but after all we’ve achieved, I think we deserve it.”

Kiran snorted. “Deserve to un…wine-d?”

“You’re terrible.” Josephine shoved her playfully, nearly knocking the wine over the edge. “Oh!”

“That’s why you love me.” Kiran smiled, looking around before kissing Josephine softly. “One of the many reasons, I’m sure.”

Josephine rolled her eyes. “Well, yes, and your natural modesty, of course. We mustn’t forget.”

Kiran hummed, kissing her hair where it had come loose from its bun. “And my prowess as a lover, naturally.”

“All right, let’s not get carried away.” Josephine laughed, sipping more wine.

“Hm? Afraid someone will see the Ambassador getting ravished? Oh, think of the scandal!” Kiran giggled, feeling suddenly exhausted and light-headed at once.

Perhaps the wine was good for something.

Josephine looked around. There did not appear to be anyone close by, but one could never trust that spies weren’t lurking in the shadows—a fact proved all too true just hours earlier.

“You’re really all right?” She sighed, folding herself to rest her head on Kiran’s lap. “You were never formally checked over for wounds earlier. Should I get some of Leliana’s people to inspect you?”

Kiran shook her head. “I’ll do that before I sleep. Right after I burn this monstrosity of an outfit.”

Josephine ran her fingers on the fabric of her trousers. “I’ll have you know, this is very expensive material, my dear. We paid twice to have these made at the last minute, too.”

“Oh, well then. I’ll tarry a moment before burning them then.” She laughed. “Bloody absurd things.”

She moved to take another sip of wine but found the bottle empty. Maker, had they had so much to drink already?

Kiran grunted, chucking the bottle over the balcony with the flick of a wrist. “Oops.” It must have landed in some shrubs, as there was no sound of shattering glass below.

Josephine sat up, her face red. “Kiran! What if someone hears you?”

“I think I’ve earned enough goodwill to excuse a few social _faux-pas_ , no?” Her mouth seemed to move over the Orlesian words sarcastically. “If anyone asks, we can just say that the _excellent_ wine went to my head.”

Josephine elbowed her playfully. “Maker, you’re hopeless.”

“I know,” Kiran kissed her forehead. “As ever. Want to get out of here? I think I see a nice garden path we could explore.”

Josephine glanced at the empty hall behind them and shook her head.

“Perhaps in a while. If I may?” She pulled Kiran into a deep kiss. “I’m more interested in exploring something else at the moment.”

“Oh? Why, my lady, what are you implying?”

Josephine just arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

“I think you know exactly what I’m implying, Inquisitor.” She whispered into her ear, the breath on her skin making Kiran shiver.

“Well,” Kiran pretended to mull it over, “I do have a party to get back to, you know. Lots of adoring fans.”

Josephine ran her fingers up Kiran’s arms, placing her arms around the back of Kiran’s neck.

“I think your biggest fan is right here.”

Kiran looked down to see the first few buttons undone on her collar.

“When did you get so smooth?”

Josephine laughed. “Bard training has its purposes, I suppose. Even if I’ve been out of the Game for some time now.”

Kiran began unbuttoning the rest of her shirt, smirking. “Oh yes? What secrets could you wrest from me, I wonder?”

“Hm…” Josephine helped pull her shirt over her arms, letting it pool around her. “All sorts of things—trade secrets, family alliances, Chantry influence…”

Kiran sat quietly, watching softly as Josephine bit her lip in concentration.

“Maker, these outfits really are horrid, aren’t they?” She furrowed her brow. “Seeking to frustrate me at every turn.”

Kiran felt mana flow into her fingertips, feeling the prickling sensation flow down her veins and around her body. She took a deep breath, feeling the energy begin to dissipate into the cold night air.

Josephine just sat back and folded her arms. “You couldn’t have been more patient? There is such a thing as a mood, you know.”

Kiran sat nearly naked upon the marble tile, the clothes magicked into piles around her.

“I was just helping.” She batted her eyelashes.

Josephine rolled her eyes affectionately and crawled forward to loom over her.

“I’m sure the Circle would not approve of such techniques.”

Kiran pulled her hands around Josephine’s head and fell gracefully on her back, letting gravity pull her down with her.

“My dear, where do you think I learnt such things? It’s not all stuffy and boring in the towers.”

“Mm. Clearly.” Josephine kissed a trail down Kiran’s neck, pausing to nip at her collarbones. “And I appreciate your schooling, such as it is. But there are some things that must be done the old-fashioned way.”

She slid her fingers gently under the fabric of Kiran’s breastband, feeling for the clasps that held it together. She gingerly unhooked them and pulled it away, watching the sudden cold air turn Kiran’s chest pointed. She pressed a soft kiss to each peak with a smile.

“See? Much more romantic like this.” She folded the fabric and placed it to one side.

Kiran gazed back and just smiled.

Josephine sighed, taking the vision before her in.

“You could’ve died tonight, you know.”

Kiran gripped her hands tightly in her own. “And I could’ve died yesterday, and the day before, and back at the Summit with the Divine. But I didn’t. I’m here and you’re here. Maker, you’re really here. This is really happening.”

She felt light-headed again as she pulled Josephine down into a long kiss.

“We’re alive. And I intend to make the most of it.”

Josephine studied her serious face and felt a grin form.

“Yes, you’re right. We’re alive.”

She furiously pulled her own shirt off, feeling a few buttons give way and clatter to the floor in her haste. Her trousers were easier to unlace, joining the shirt in an unceremonious heap.

Kiran just giggled. “I’m so glad I lived to see this. The Ambassador finally losing it.”

Josephine tickled her sides mercilessly, watching Kiran shriek and roll with laughter.

“This is punishment. If I have a head full of grey hairs tomorrow because of you, I will be livid!”

“Okay, okay. Stop. Maker, stop.” Kiran raised her hands. “I give up. Josephine, if you have a head of grey hair tomorrow, I will personally sew you the biggest, brightest hat Orlais has even seen to distract from it. Deal?”

Josephine nodded sagely. “Purple, I think. With peacock feathers….and diamonds.”

Kiran used her position on the ground to find leverage and flip Josephine onto her back, sitting atop her.

“I will make whatever you’d like, provided you stop talking now.”

Josephine’s face flushed, her hair completely loosened from its bun now.

“Hm…I’m not sure I—”

Her words were cut off by Kiran’s hands pulling her smalls to the side and pressing her fingers against her in one quick move.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. You were saying?” She smirked.

“Maker, I—”

Josephine gasped into Kiran’s kiss as her fingers searched for her entrance. They found their mark and began circling, spreading the damp slick around her folds.

Kiran swallowed every moan with glee.

“I lied. This is the best party ever.” She grinned, nipping at Josephine’s neck.

“Please, I—gah…” Josephine panted, her hips bucking against Kiran’s wrist. “I need you.”

Kiran chuckled, kissing and lapping her way back down Josephine’s chest.

“Would you like to see something else I learnt in the tower?”

Josephine just nodded silently.

A trickle of sweat ran down her brow and into her messy hair that pooled around her like a halo.

Kiran concentrated on the energy in the air, feeling a crackling like static pulse around her fingers. She breathed in, feeling herself fill with power, and smiled. Magic and sex. Nothing felt better.

With a quick exhale, she let a small pulse flow through her hand. Not enough to do any damage, just to target the muscles.

Josephine gasped, arching her back in response. “Maker, do that again. Please.”

Kiran pulled her into another kiss. “Believe me, it would be my pleasure.”

One hand moved steadily in and out below, while the other tapped a gentle circle above.

Josephine felt herself rapidly coming toward something and gripped Kiran’s arm tightly.

“Just like that. Don’t stop.”

Kiran hummed, pressing an index finger directly to her core and sent a few final rhythmic pulses.

Josephine cried out, biting her lip at the last in an attempt to silence herself.

Her legs jerked slightly beneath her as Kiran pulled her fingers out, watching the wetness glisten on her hand.

“I take it my lessons went well, then. I always was a good student.” She lapped at the sweet musk coating her and sighed.

Once Josephine took a few deep breaths, she steadied herself and propped herself up onto her elbows.

“That was…thank you. But…” She looked at Kiran’s thighs which were firmly squeezed together. “Would you like me to do anything? I doubt I could return the favour quite so well.”

Kiran crawled over her, her thighs parting over her face. “I could think of something.”

Josephine gripped her hips with surprising strength and pulled her dripping folds down to her lips.

She felt like losing herself at a banquet, drinking wine until she was floating.

This is what power felt like, flooding and breaking through her until she could reduce even the strongest figures to a sobbing mess.

Kiran tapped her on the forehead softly, pulling herself back.

“Maker…breathe. Breathe. That was…more than adequate repayment. It’s a wonder you ever stopped being a bard. Think of the things you could get someone to say with a tongue like that.”

Josephine panted, licking her lips. “Hm…don’t tempt me.”

The Iron Bull’s voice called drunkenly from the hall.

“Guys, have you seen the Inquisitor? Sera found a way to climb into the chandelier and I know she won’t want to miss this.”

The two of them sat up, their faces red. “Shit, hide!”

Kiran hissed, tossing their clothes into the garden below.

Josephine squeaked indignantly. “Oh, great! Now what are we meant to do?”

“Jump. I’ll catch us.”

“What? I’m not—”

The heavy footsteps and voices got closer.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Josephine clambered over the edge with surprising agility.

“I don’t.” Kiran stated, vaulting over and pulling her after with a shriek.

She willed them to come to a soft landing, pushing the ground away with a gust of wind that found them settling softly into some bushes.

Josephine couldn’t help but giggle softly at the absurdity of it all.

Bull stepped out onto the balcony, sniffing. “Guess they weren’t here, after all. Krem, you got it wrong.”

He was about to turn to rejoin the search when he spotted the buttons with a sly smile.

“Guess we’ll keep searching elsewhere.” He raised his voice. “Give her time to show herself.”

He snorted and turned.

Kiran finished lacing her trousers with a grin.

“I’m never going to live this down. You watch.”

Josephine began tying her hair back into its bun, pulling bits of greenery out of the strands.

“I certainly won’t let you.”


	6. Day 6: Voyeurism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just fluff this time. No smut. Just two goobers in love.

Fenris read the sentence slowly first, his finger tracing along the words, muttering to himself.  
  
Satisfied, he sat back in Hawke's chair, stretching. The sun had sunk low in the sky already.

  
  
Maker, how long had he been there?

  
  
He stuck a piece of loose paper into the book to mark his progress and closed it.  
  
It was only a few pages today, but it was three more than last week.

  
  
Fenris pushed the chair in behind him and went to find Hawke.  
  
She was sitting in the recess of the window on the upper floor, looking out at the garden below.

  
  
Fenris padded over quietly in his bare feet and cleared his throat.  
  
"I think that will be all I can accomplish for today. I should get going. Don't want to be underfoot."

  
  
Hawke turned and smiled. "You'd be welcome to stay for dinner, you know. I promise I won't poison the stew too terribly."  
  
Fenris snorted. "You wouldn't have to, from what I hear, your cooking is deadly enough as it is."  
  
"I will ignore that slander." Hawke rolled her eyes and returned to looking out the window. "It's a wonder more folks don't close their drapes. I've seen so many things I never expected to see...and some things I wish I had never seen."

  
  
Fenris walked closer, peering into the dim twilight. "Oh, yes? What sorts of things?"  
  
"Well...last week alone I saw evidence of two affairs, a few horrible rows, and one spectacular morning dance routine...in the nude."  
  
Fenris laughed softly. "A shame you cannot see into my home from here. I could show off my choreography--fully-clothed, naturally."  
  
"Ah, break my heart." Hawke nudged him with a grin. "You know, Fenris, one of these days I may just get you to show me those moves in person."  
  
"There is not enough alcohol in your cellar to ply me."

  
  
Hawke hopped to her feet with a start.  
  
"Oh, speaking of, Aveline brought me a nice bottle of Antivan red the other day. I think she confiscated it from a smuggling ring or something. Or maybe she just nicked it off Isabela. Want to try some?"  
  
"Either seems plausible." Fenris shrugged. "I've not got anywhere pressing to be. Why not? Just the one glass, I think."

  
  
A few glasses later, and Hawke was roaring with laughter, tears streaming down her face. "I couldn't believe it! He ran out, nothing but the skin on his back, and it was just a fox. I thought Carver was going to die of shame!"  
  
Fenris wiped at his eyes. "I would pay good money to see that. Remind me to keep that mental image at bay the next time we visit the Gallows, else I won't be able to keep a straight face."  
  
Hawke grinned. "I'd nearly forgotten about it. Oh, Maker, I think that trumps your story, easily."  
  
"I'll cede to you, Hawke. I must search my mind for another tale for the next time." He sipped the last dregs of his glass.  
  
"I'm glad you want there to be a next time." Hawke smiled softly. "Not sure I'll be able to acquire the same vintage, but I'd be more than happy for your company."

  
  
Fenris felt his ears prickle with heat and chuckled. "Ah, such a way with words. I feel as though I'm taking advantage of your hospitality. I'm already here often enough for your books."  
  
"I don't mind. But if you really are bothered, a bit of that rosemary loaf from the market near you wouldn't go amiss." Hawke finished her glass.

  
  
"It's a deal." Fenris began to stand, gripping the chair for balance. "Maker, I guess this is why they say you shouldn't drink on an empty stomach."  
  
Hawke snorted. "I think you'll find we Fereldens have a hardy constitution." She wobbled to her feet.  
  
"I can see that." He arched an eyebrow.  
  
Hawke wandered over to him, shoving into him playfully. "Oh, hush, you."

  
  
Fenris shoved her back lightly, losing his balance and sitting in a heap on the rug.  
  
Hawke flopped down next to him, laughing.

  
  
"Maker, what a pair we make. If you like, I can ask Bodahn to bring up some leftover cheese. I'm afraid we haven't done any shopping lately, so the cupboard is a bit bare."  
  
"Perhaps in a bit." Fenris sighed, letting his head rest on Hawke's shoulder. "Need to rest."  
  
"Ah, yes. All that laughing and drinking is hard work." She let his head rest against his.  
  
Fenris smiled softly, feeling the warmth of the fire and the wine fill him.

  
  
This wasn't his home, but he never felt anything but welcome. It was a strange sensation at first, but as the months went by, he found himself growing increasingly comfortable.  
  
"You'd be welcome to stay the night, you know." Hawke spoke. "I know you don't want to impose, but...I wouldn't mind the company."  
  
Fenris sighed, sitting up to look into her face. "Are you sure that's not the wine talking? I wouldn't want the neighbours to talk--give you any trouble."  
  
Hawke pressed a kiss to his forehead.  
  
"Let them talk. No one would dare speak against me, not after the business with the Arishok."  
  
Fenris' brows furrowed. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Will you stop asking me that? How many times do I have to say I want you to spend the night?" She found herself speaking more loudly than she'd intended. "Shit."

  
  
Fenris felt a sudden squeeze in his chest. This woman--this mage--would be the death of him yet.

  
  
"All right. Then, I'd be honoured."  
  
Hawke flushed red. "You don't have to make it sound like we're...that we. I mean, I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Shall we go to bed?"  
  
Fenris swallowed. "Ah, yes. I can keep my trousers and tunic on, if you'd prefer. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

  
  
"Whatever you'd like. I mean, I'm sure I wouldn't mind seeing what's under there. It's been a while, but I imagine you're still...but uh...I...did I just say that out loud?"  
  
She nearly squeaked, clutching his hands over her mouth. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean--"

  
  
Fenris interrupted her with a quick kiss.

  
  
"It's all right."  
  
Hawke ran her fingers through his silver hair and returned the kiss, pausing for a moment.  
  
"Was that all right?"  
  
Fenris shifted awkwardly, his legs becoming stiff from sitting on the floor.  
  
"It was more than that. But...perhaps--"  
  
"We could go somewhere more comfortable?"  
  
"My thoughts exactly."

  
  
Hawke laced their fingers together and led him up the stairs behind him to her room, locking the door behind her softly.  
  
Fenris watched as Hawke pulled the thin sash from her robe, letting the crimson silk fall to the floor dramatically.

  
  
It was still light enough to make out her silhouette, as well as the scar that ran from her chest to her lower abdomen.  
  
Anders had done an excellent job healing her, even he had had to begrudgingly admit, but the marks remained, thick and aching.  
  
He ran a finger up the tissue, feeling his chest tighten. It was his fault; he had suggested the duel.

  
  
Hawke saw his eyes flutter shut and pulled him into a hug. "It's all right, Fenris. It's over and done with. I'm just fine. I'm here."  
  
Fenris felt his eyes sting and let a few tears fall onto her bare skin with a sigh.  
  
"I know. I'm just...I'm so sorry, Hawke."  
  
She stepped back and wiped the tears from his eyes gently. "I know. And I've forgiven you years ago. Now do you mean to ravish me or not?"  
  
Fenris laughed wetly.  
  
"With the curtains open? Wouldn't you rather--"  
  
"I said, let them talk. I meant it." She sauntered to the bed, pulling off her breastband and smalls and flinging them about the room. "Shall we give them something to really discuss?"  
  
Fenris felt his trousers tighten as he watched Hawke drape herself across the covers with her legs spread, playing at a serious expression.  
  
"Hawke..."  
  
"Yes?" She broke into a small smile.  
  
"Can we put the dog outside?"


	7. Day 7: Vanilla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Fenris have a nice morning.  
> (Directly following the events of the previous chapter.)

Hawke woke up to the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

She groaned slightly, pulling the sheets over her face.

“Is my face so distasteful to you?” Fenris chuckled wryly. “It seemed all right last night. Or was that the wine?”

Hawke rolled over to face him, tugging him underneath the covers as well.

“Mmph. Too early. Too much light.”

“Well, you did say you wanted to give the neighbours a show, didn’t you?”

She paused, laughing softly. “I did, yes. I think we did just that.”

Fenris looked down at the dishevelled mess of a woman below him and smiled.

There were certainly worse ways to start the day.

He pressed a kiss to the mess of hair that fell across her eyes.

“You missed.”

She clasped his chin and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Ah, yes, my mistake.”

She burrowed into the crook of his neck and sighed, wrapping her arms and legs around Fenris like some great tentacled sea beast.

The thought made him snort.

“You mean to subdue me?”

“Shh…just let me enjoy this.” She squeezed him tightly. “Though…I’d say it feels as though you already are.”

Fenris looked down at his cock.

_Traitor._

“I’m so sorry, Hawke. I can…I don’t mean—”

He whimpered slightly, feeling her hand stroke along his shaft.

“I can stop, if you like.” She whispered.

Fenris pulled her closer against himself. “Please don’t on my account.”

“All right.” Hawke smiled sleepily, sweeping the hair from her eyes and pressing a long kiss to his forehead. “You just lie back and let me take care of you.”

“All right.” He sighed, watching as Hawke tossed the sheets back over her shoulders.

She loomed over him, but not menacingly, watching his face with curiosity.

“What?” He reddened a bit. “Not as good without the wine? Was I right?”

Hawke just shook her head. “I was thinking how beautiful you look in this light—the silver hair, the strong but lean muscles…it’s not often I have such a lovely man in my bed.”

Fenris smiled softly. “Oh, you’ve had other beautiful men?”

“And women…and others. But no one quite like yourself. No one I really…sorry, never mind.”

“No one you what?”

Hawke cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck.

“It’s just nothing. I’m just…I love you is all. Oh, Maker, I’m sorry I—”

“Hawke,” he pressed a finger to her lips. “I love you too. It’s all right.”

She blinked. “You…you do?”

Fenris groaned, sitting up on his elbows. “Yes, I do.”

“Oh, well then. Wow. I….”

“Wow?” Fenris arched an eyebrow.

“Good wow.” She sat on his lap, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. “Hm…so good.”

“Now,” she cleared her throat again. “Shall we take care of your little friend?”

She ground her hips down against him.

He laughed.

_A gloriously sweet sound._

“I would love nothing more.”

Hawke grinned back, kissing him deeply.

“Good, because I wasn’t kidding about taking care of you. Now, lie back, yeah? And uh, if-if there’s something you don’t want or like, just tell me, okay?”

Fenris nodded, letting his head rest back on the pile of pillows.

Hawke pressed a series of soft pecks to his face, brushing the hair from his eyes with a soft smile.

“So beautiful,” she breathed.

His heart clenched a bit but…

But it wasn’t like how _he’d_ said it before, like one might speak of a horse or an expensive piece of art.

He let the sensation sink into him.

‘Love suits you well,’ Varric had said.

Perhaps he had been right.

Fenris sighed, feeling the kisses all over his neck, his shoulders, his arms. Each burnt like an ember for a moment after.

He closed his eyes, letting the feelings wash over him.

“Ah!” He gasped slightly, feeling Hawke lick a quick stripe up his stomach.

“Too much?”

“No, no…ah, just…surprised, that’s all. Please, don’t stop.”

Hawke nodded, resuming her small laps and kisses to his shivering skin. She paused a moment before pressing her tongue to his weeping tip with a sigh.

His hands tightened in her hair slightly. “Ah, I’m sorry. Is that painful?” He withdrew them to his sides, gripping the sheets.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind it, actually.” She smiled softly, moving his hands back to her head. “Just so long as you don’t yank any big chunks out.”

Fenris chuckled. “I’ll try to avoid it but—ah—”

His words were cut off again as she placed the whole head of his cock into her mouth, letting her tongue run wet circles around it.

“Shit.” Fenris cursed into the empty room. “That’s…yes.”

Hawke glanced up at his face, watching his closed eyes and bitten lip with glee.

She took more of him into her mouth, bobbing slightly, while trying to avoid choking.

_How awful would that be?_

She pressed away for a moment to catch her breath, panting heavily.

“You’re so good at that.” Fenris opened his eyes and looked down. “But I’m afraid if you continue for much longer, I won’t be able to hold out. It’s been years.”

Hawke sighed, crawling over him to press a wet kiss on his mouth.

He parted his lips slightly and lapped at her tongue, tasting himself in a daze.

“Maybe mornings aren’t so bad after all.”

“It could be even better.” Hawke placed him against her wet folds and used her hips to grind against him.

He moaned softly into another kiss.

“Oh? Have something in mind?”

She shuttered, jerking her hips more. “As a matter of fact, I do. Certain things had to uh…be removed, after my battle with the Arishok. Organs and such. So, you can finish inside me, if you want. Nothing will—you know—happen.”

Fenris furrowed his brows. “I’m so sorry, Hawke, I didn’t realise.”

She shook her head. “No, don’t be. I never was interested in having children of my own. I always thought that would be…be _Bethany_ or Carver now, I suppose, one day. But it’s all right. I’ve made my peace with it.”

He pulled her down into a tight embrace.

“Even still, I’m sorry that you had the choice taken from you.”

“I know. But I’m all right, really, I am. And right now, I really want to feel you inside me.”

His cock seemed to twitch slightly at the prospect.

“Ah, I’d say someone agrees with me.” Hawke snorted, “So, how do you want to do this? Me on top? You on top? Want to take me from behind?”

Fenris felt his head swim. “So many options, all of them very enticing. But right now, I think I’d like to see your face. I’m not the only beautiful one here.”

“Ah! Arrogant.” She hit him playfully in the arm and let herself be rolled over onto her back.

He knelt over her, taking the view in. “No, just stating the facts as I can see them. I have a very beautiful woman below me—a mage, no less—and I intend to show her just how much I appreciate her.”

She spread her legs slightly, letting him settle onto her. “Appreciate freely.”

Fenris ran his fingers softly through her slick folds, watching his fingers glisten as he traced them up and down, fascinated.

“Ah, don’t torture me.” Hawke grunted, biting her lip.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…I’m still new to all this. And you’re very interesting.”

Hawke groaned, whacking the pillow to her side. “And I appreciate that you think I’m interesting, really, Fenris, I do. But right now, I need to f…”

“What was that?”

Fenris had parted her with his hand, pushing himself in with a soft sigh.

“Fuck.” She squeaked.

“Mmm, I intend to.” He groaned, letting the heat and tightness of her overwhelm him.

He consciously made an effort to be gentle, but Hawke held onto his hips above her, pulling him as deep as she could bear.

“Please—ah—don’t stop. I need…yeah, like that.” She huffed, snaking a hand down to rub herself.

Fenris felt sweat drip down his forehead, stinging his eyes, dripping from his chin.

Every thrust felt like he was losing control of something.

Hawke’s nails dug into the meat of his sides slightly, and the edge of pain tinging the pleasure was the final straw.

He snapped his hips faster, more harshly, watching as Hawke moaned below him.

“I’m…” He barely got the words out before his finished, feeling himself spill into her.

Hawke grinned, face coated in a sheen of sweat. “That was amazing. You’re so good. I’m sorry about your side.”

Fenris blinked, sound and light coming back to him. “What? I…n-no, don’t worry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“Don’t be.” Hawke kissed his salty lips. “I loved it.”

He moved to slip out of her, but she shook her head. “Is it all right if you just…if we just stay like, this for a while?”

“I’d like that.” He rested his forehead against hers.

Hawke smiled. “So…acceptable way to start the day?”

Fenris returned the smile, brightly. “Excellent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know if you notice any grammar errors, tense, etc.  
> I've double-checked things but don't have a beta, so I may've missed some things.  
> (I am very sleepy.)
> 
> Also, as always, constructive criticism is appreciated, if you've got any.  
> Thanks!


	8. Days 8 and 9: Hogtie/ In Public

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabela and Merrill have some fun in the Chantry.  
> Combined days 8 and 9.

t 8 and 9- hogtie/ in public  
  
"Just a few more knots aaand there!"  
  
Isabela smiled, pleased with her effort. "Feel good, kitten?"  
  
Merrill wriggled her hands where they were lashed to her legs. "Perfect."  
  
They were hiding in a corner of the Chantry that was usually empty in the middle of the day. It needed a good dusting years ago, and Merrill felt like sneezing.  
  
"Mmm." She canted her hips forward, trying to create some friction against the floor. "Isabela, please."  
  
The pirate knelt down, tilting her lover's chin up toward her. "Aww, poor thing. All soaking wet for me while here I am, fully-dressed."  
  
"Isa-Isabela, please." Merrill hissed.  
  
Isabela turned her head to the side, humming.  
  
"Hmm? Please what?"  
  
"Please, please, I need--ah--"  
  
Isabela pressed her fingers into Merrill's mouth, letting saliva drip down her fingers.  
  
"Yes, that's right. Get them nice and wet."  
  
Merrill smiled up at her, twirling her tongue around the digits with relish.  
  
Voices echoed down the hall, getting closer.  
  
"Shit." Isabela hissed, grabbing a linen from a cupboard and chucking it over Merrill. "Evening, Sisters!"  
  
The figures passed, raising their eyebrows slightly at the scene.  
  
Isabela was knelt in a corner, seemingly reciting the Chant of Light.  
  
"Oh, ah, you've caught me in quiet...contemplation. My mistake. I just wanted somewhere a little more private to er…worship."  
  
"No, it's always good to see...a new face here. Have a blessed day." The older of the two Sisters patted Isabela's head and the two retreated down the hall.  
  
Merrill sneezed quietly as Isabela removed the sheet. "Ahh, you were so good for me, pet, staying so quiet. And that goodness will be rewarded."  
  
"Mmhmm?" She wiggled her hips.  
  
"Mmhmm."  
  
Isabela walked behind Merrill and bent down, spreading her folds softly.  
  
"So eager. Best be quiet, though, wouldn't want those Sisters to come back and see you...like this."  
  
Merrill bit down on her lip.  
  
"Yes, that's right. Right there."  
  
Isabela dipped her fingers in further, feeling for the rough patch of skin and pressing lightly.  
  
"Ah!" Merrill let a sharp cry loose from her throat. "Sorry, I'm sorry!"  
  
Her face reddened.  
  
"Need some help being quiet?" Isabela removed her fingers, pressing them against Merrill's mouth.  
  
She groaned, smelling the musk of herself on her fingers.  
  
"You're so good. And good people deserve good things."  
  
Isabela used three fingers to press into Merrill's heat, licking her lips.  
  
"Yes, that's right. Take it for me. You're so good."  
  
Merrill moaned, trying to scoot back against Isabela's fingers. "Mmph!"  
  
"I know, sweet thing. I promise I'll make it worth the while." Isabela tutted and added a fourth finger, feeling the walls stretch around her hand.  
  
  
  
"Perfect." She sighed.  
  
Merrill's legs strained and quivered against her, feeling the beginning of the end.  
  
Isabela felt the small spasms and removed her hand from Merrill's mouth to rub tight circles around, while the other began a steady plunging rhythm.  
  
"Shh, shh, shh. That's it. Take it."  
  
Merrill whimpered, feeling herself shake apart.  
  
"Ahh, Creators! That's so--ahh!" She fell apart on the Chantry floor, exposed and leaking.  
  
Isabela grinned.  
  
The cat who'd eaten the canary.  
  
"Oohh, so so excellent, sweetheart." She licked her fingers clean and untied the ropes, watching as Merrill sagged onto the stone. "But I think we'd better make our escape."  
  
"Hello? Is anyone there?" A voice called down the hallway.  
  
Merrill hopped to her feet, slick still running down her legs. "Ah, shit. I'll grab my clothes, you...distract them, or something."  
  
Isabela grinned. "Can do."  
  
She wrapped the rope quickly into a loop and placed it in a satchel on her belt.  
  
"Ladies!" She called out, sauntering toward the figures. "I was wondering who I could speak to about making my yearly tithes. You see, I've been just dreadful about keeping up with my donations..."

Later, in the Hanged Man, Sebastian walked up to her, sipping an ale.

“Is it true I saw you in the Chantry earlier? Have my words finally reached your heart?”

Isabela rolled her eyes.

“Ah, yes, my dear. I’ve finally changed my ways. I’ve given up my life of piracy and debauchery for quiet contemplation and prayer. Praise to Andraste herself.”

Sebastian snorted. “You don’t have to admit it, you know, but I think deep down, you’re a good person.”

Isabela winked. “I certainly have my talents. Oh, by the way, next round’s on you.”

“What happened to your winnings for last week?”

“Eh? Oh, I…owed someone. Worth it though.”


	9. Day 10: Obedience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana has Kaia in knots, literally and figuratively.

“Will you be good for me?” Leliana looked down at Kaia.

She was kneeling, her hands bound behind her back with silk ribbon.

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

Leliana smiled beatifically.

“Excellent. Now, come toward me here, on your knees.

Kaia complied, wobbling forward.

Leliana stripped off the last of her outer garments and stood before her, watching Kaia eye her.

“See something you like?”

“Yes.”

“Anything you want to share?” Leliana purred, making a show of slipping her smalls off inch by inch.

Kaia’s eyes seemed to burn in the candle light.

“Everything. I love everything about you.”

Always earnest and forthright. Leliana loved that about their leader. Beauty, brains, brawn—what wasn’t to like?

“A good answer, if lacking in poetry.”

“May I…may I come closer?” Kaia felt her stomach clench in knots. “I’d like to see you.”

Leliana laughed softly. “You are looking at me already, aren’t you?”

She ran a finger down her stomach, gathering the moisture between her folds and spreading it until her skin shone.

Kaia swallowed roughly.

Leliana smirked, sashaying her way over to where Kaia knelt, standing so her folds were just above eye level.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Kaia did as she was bid, smelling the sharp sweet and musk before tasting it on her tongue.

Maker, it never got old—the smell, the taste, and hearing the Nightingale sing.

She squirmed on the floor, breathing heavily through her nose while she licked.

“Are you—ahh! Are you ge-getting enough air?” Leliana huffed, grinding her hips down.

Kaia nodded, despite feeling lightheaded. “Yes.”

She hummed slightly, feeling her lips slip around her hood, and letting the vibrations add more sensation.

Leliana’s legs began to shake, with the effort, as well as from keeping her release at bay.

“St—stop.” She commanded, reluctant.

Kaia leant back a bit, taking great gulps of air.

The slick ran down her lips, to her chin and neck, and she couldn’t help but grin.

“Pleased with yourself, are you?” Leliana sighed. “But I’m afraid I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Kaia clenched her thighs together, nodding.

“Please, Leliana, I’ll do anything.”

Leliana smiled sweetly. “I know you will. Now, lie back, I’ve placed a pillow down for you.”

Kaia did as she was told and sighed, watching Leliana rummage around in one of her trunks.

All the walking and fighting was good for the mind…and the body too, apparently.

“Ah, here we are.” Leliana smiled triumphantly, producing a small curved shaft made of stone. It had a rune carved into it and hummed slightly in her hands.

“Dwarven made, you know. Building great empires underground is not all they’re good at, apparently.”

She slipped one end easily into herself, groaning.

“Oh, my dear.” She laughed breathlessly. “I think you’ll like this quite a lot.”

Kaia felt like sobbing.

The waiting was infernal.

Leliana knelt down between her legs. “Spread them.”

Kaia did, reddening a bit as she saw how wet she had become.

Leliana ran a finger through her folds and licked it clean.

“Mmm… do you think you’re ready for me?”

“Please, yes! Maker, yes.” Kaia felt the words tumble from her mouth.

Leliana chuckled, pressing the curved end of the shaft into Kaia, sliding it in with little resistance.

The rune activated with the added body heat, sending small waves of pressure into the pair.

“Ah!” Kaia arched her back off the floor, thankful for the pillow cushioning her head. “That’s—”

“So good. So _so_ good.” Leliana mumbled, gripping Kaia’s hips and beginning to thrust slightly.

The shaft seemed to respond to the increase in intensity, increasing the shockwaves accordingly.

Leliana was so far gone, it didn’t take long for her to fall apart.

She moaned loudly as she came, collapsing onto Kaia’s chest, hips still twitching.

Kaia felt herself blubbering. “Pl-please, gah—I need— _I need_. Ah, please!”

Leliana snaked a hand between them and rubbed roughly, in time with the pulses.

“Ah!” Kaia felt a cry leave her throat, as if unbidden, as she shook. A second spike came quickly after the first, her muscles spasming sharply, until she too collapsed.

The waves receded until they stopped.

Leliana slipped the shaft out of Kaia, then herself, setting to one side before flopping back onto a pillow dramatically.

“Shit.” Kaia spoke, starting to laugh. “That was…where did you say you got that?”

Leliana was already untying the silk ribbon.

“Orzammar, actually. While you were off looking for dusty forgotten records, I found the nicest little shop. Most unexpected.”

She kissed where the binding had produced lines in Kaia’s skin.

“I think you’ll have to show me some time, after we’re done saving the world, of course.”

Leliana laughed, kissing Kaia sweetly. “Well, to my mind, that’s all but done. With such a dashing leader, and such talented support, how can we fail?”

Kaia laughed. “Oh well! I guess it’s decided! I just won’t fail then. Someone should go tell Alistair the good news.”

“Maybe in a bit.” Leliana found herself yawning. “After a nap?”

Kaia sighed happily, nuzzling back into her pillow. “Another excellent idea.”

“Do I have any other kind?”


	10. Day 11: Choking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merrill walks in on Anders. Awkwardness ensues.  
> No actual smut this time.

Merrill hopped up the stairs, humming as she went.

Darktown was as dark as miserable as its name implied, but it never dampened her spirits.

She made her way into Anders' clinic and gasped.

The mage was slumped in a corner, a ligature around his neck.

Merrill dove forward, pulling the knife from her belt and cutting him free in one movement.

Anders fell into her arms, gasping loudly.

"Ahh, Maker! Merrill! Wha--what are you doing here?"

"Creators, what were you doing? Were you...I mean, have things really gotten so dire? Is it...Justice? The Templars?"

Anders' face reddened. He shook his head, sighing.

"No, it's not. Nothing like that. If anything, I'm happier than usual."

He shifted uncomfortably.

Merrill wiped the hair from his eyes.

"Then what?"

"It's...ah...rather embarrassing, I'm afraid."

Merrill's eyes lit up.

"Oh, is it dirty?"

Anders cleared his throat.

"Well, it's..uh, are you familiar with autoerotic asphyxiation?"

"No."

"Ah. Well, uh, the-the-the uh...brain having reduced, er, blood flow makes it...more pleasurable."

He gestured lamely at the tent in his trousers.

"Ah...I...see." Merrill stood up slowly.

"I'll just come back later then, shall I? I just wanted to borrow a few books on herbs."

Anders nodded. "Take them, if you like."

Merrill scanned the single shelf quickly, finding what she wanted and grabbing them.

She was about to leave when she turned.

"Ah...Anders. Despite the...pleasure, please be careful."

"Didn't know you cared." He huffed.

"Well, we could always use a talented healer, the messes we get ourselves in."

Merrill smiled. "And I'm quite fond of you, for all you call me a witch."

Anders smiled softly, just for a moment.

"You're...not terrible, I suppose, for an abomination. And uh...don't mention this to anyone, please. I don't want this passed around. Folk are twitchy to begin with around me."

"My lips are sealed." Merrill giggled, leaving and shutting the door behind him.


	11. Day 12: Threesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabela, Hawke, and Merrill have some fun for Merrill's birthday.  
> Do birthdays make sense with Thedas lore? Who cares?  
> Have some tentacles made of light and my favourite OT3.

Kt-12

Threesome

Isabela x Merrill x Hawke

Merrill combed her hair till it shone in the low firelight, humming all the while.

Hawke beamed a great smile, watching from her favourite perch by the window.

It was nice to have someone to share the evenings with, especially now after Mother had…well, it was nice all the same.

Bodahn and Sandal loved playing games with her, and Orana was practicing new Dalish tunes on her lute. She was becoming quite accomplished.

Merrill noticed Hawke staring and raised an eyebrow. “Everything all right, _ma vhenan_?”

“Oh yes. I’m sorry, just lost in thought again.” Hawke sauntered over, placing her head atop Merrill’s.

“Careful. Wouldn’t want to strain anything over much.” Merrill laughed, pulling her arms behind her in the chair to try to tickle at Hawke’s side.

She shrieked, batting her hands away. “Ah, I knew it. Fenris, was right. I’d regret bringing a witch to live with me. You’re too evil by far.”

Merrill snorted, returning her glance to the mirror in front of her. “Do you…do you think she’ll like what I’ve done with my makeup—Isabela, I mean.”

“Well, I didn’t think we’d invited anyone else to share our bed this evening.” Hawke chuckled. “Well, I think you’re beautiful. Though, you always are.” She pressed a quick kiss to Merrill’s cheek. “She’ll love it.”

“Though, you might want to remove it before the fun really starts, kitten. Wouldn’t want to smudge all that hard work.” Isabela leant on the doorframe to their bedroom, holding a box in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. “Happy birthday, my dear.”

“Isabela! How did you get in?” Hawke threw her arms around the pirate in a bear hug. “Not that I’m not delighted to see you.”

Isabela grunted, the air being squeezed from her lungs. She tapped Hawke’s shoulders.

“Ah! Going to be giving Aveline a run for her money soon. Bodahn let me in. You didn’t hear?”

Merrill felt her cheeks warm. “Ah, we were just…we were just doing some cleaning up. Isn’t that right, Hawke?”

Hawke looked at the rumpled bedsheets behind her, the stacks of books towering by the nightstand precariously, and the papers strewn on the desk.

“Ah. Yes.”

Isabela snorted. “Stick to lifting big swords around, my darling, lying is not your game. Now, shall we get this party started?”

The three roared with laughter.

Isabela crowed, adding hand gestures to her already bawdy story that had Hawke curled in a ball on her side in tears.

Merrill wiped her eyes, giggling.

“Oh, Maker, stop.” Hawke clutched her abdomen. “It hurts to laugh more. I think my stomach’s going to burst.”

Merrill helped her sit up, the two letting their chuckles naturally die out.

Isabela took a final swig from the wine bottle. “I’m glad you found that so amusing. In hindsight, it absolutely was, but at the time, I was livid.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re alive to tell the tale now. Creators, I wish I could tell stories like that. Although, I don’t think Hahren Paivel would approve of some of the…uh…language.”

“Just extra flourishes, kitten.” Isabela winked. “I’m as clean as a Chantry Sister, elsewise.”

Hawke rolled her eyes. “Ah, yes, you’re famous for your chasteness.”

They sat in comfortable silence on the thick bedroom rug, watching as flames devoured a log, sending a plume of smoke and sparks upwards.

“I should get more firewood.” Hawke groaned. “Unless you fancy sitting in the dark.”

Isabela ran a finger up Merrill’s arm. “Your night, sweetheart. How do you want to play this? With some light or in the dark?”

Merrill flushed, flicking a wrist and sending a vine out the window.

The tendrils wrapped around a log in the garden below and returned, placing it in the fire before disappearing in a pale green shimmer.

“Or you could do that.” Hawke laughed. “Remind me to let you get breakfast from downstairs sometime.”

Merrill swallowed. “I’d like…I’d like to see you. Both of you, if that’s all right.”

Isabela snaked her fingers through Merrill’s hair, admiring the way the light hit it.

“Whatever you want. Tonight, as I said, is your night. How do you want us?”

Hawke sat by Isabela, cross-legged.

Merrill noticed she wasn’t wearing any pants and swallowed again.

“Creators, is it getting warm in here? Maybe I shouldn’t have added that log.” She fiddled with a button on her shirt.

“Merrill, there’s nothing to feel awkward about. We all agreed, it’s just a bit of fun. But if you decide you don’t want to do anything aside from enjoy each other’s conversation, that’s fine too.” Hawke looked at Isabela, who nodded in response.

“That’s right. We’ll only do as you say. So, you can let us know how far you want things to go or not.”

Merrill nodded. “Then…if it’s all right, I’d like to watch, maybe just at first.”

Isabela grinned.

Hawke began slipping her outer robe off before Merrill cut her off.

“On the bed…er…please.”

“Oh, I’m so going to enjoy this.” Isabela quirked an eyebrow, nudging Hawke’s side.

Hawke stood up, padding over to the bed, where she sat on its edge.

Isabela sashayed over to her, letting her legs stand on either side of Hawke.

Merrill tilted her head slightly.

“Isabela, please undress her for me.”

“Aye-aye.”

Isabela smirked, finishing taking off Hawke’s robe and setting it fall in a heap on the floor.

Hawke was totally naked, having taken a bath just earlier that evening.

“Mmm…is that jasmine I smell?” Isabela pressed her nose to Hawke’s neck, inhaling her scent. “The soap I got you?”

“Mmhmm. Oh!” Hawke gasped slightly, watching Isabela begin to remove her tunic.

This was to be a memorable evening after all, for all the right reasons, it seemed.

In just under a minute, Isabela had removed her tunic, trousers, boots, scarf, earrings, belts, and produced three knives from somewhere mysterious.

Hawke blinked, then laughed.

“I’m not even going to ask.”

Merrill waved a hand, producing small circles of light that wove their way around Hawke’s wrists, pulling her down to the sheets and holding her there.

“Ahh, starting the real fun early, huh?”

Isabela smiled. “And I always thought magic was boring. Looks like you two have worked out some more interesting functions.”

Merrill felt a grin reach her mouth.

“Oh, yes. A bit of experimentation is all. Hawke is a very kind and willing test subject. Now, Isabela you can do what you like with her.”

Hawke bit her lip, watching Isabela’s eyes glaze over.

“So many options…”

She decided upon kissing down Hawke’s neck, remembering where she liked to be touched.

Hawke squirmed slightly, but the magic held fast.

She felt herself begin to drip.

“Oh…yes, right, yes—ah!” She cried out as Isabela’s fingers and tongue parted her folds expertly.

Merrill watched in awe, feeling her own smalls becoming increasingly damp with the images and sounds before her.

She couldn’t help herself.

With the snap of her fingers, she produced a ball of energy and light, letting it dance and pulse in the air.

Isabela paused slightly, watching it move toward them.

Hawke groaned but smiled.

“Oh, this is one of my favourites. You’ll see why in a moment.”

As the light approached, it turned less transparent and more solid—a sparkling shaft of light.

Hawke moaned as she felt it enter where Isabela’s fingers had been.

“Maker, yes. I needed this, you have no idea.” She babbled slightly, feeling her walls clench slightly around the magic filling her.

Isabela watched, enthralled, and completely oblivious to the new tendril of light that was making its way toward her from behind.

It snaked through her legs and between her folds.

Merrill laughed as she watched Isabela shriek and fall forward onto Hawke.

“You could try to use your mouth.” Merrill suggested, beginning to rub herself through her smalls.

Isabela nodded, kissing and licking Hawke’s torso and chest.

“You look so good like this.”

Merrill worked herself faster, watching Hawke begin to arch her back.

“Ah, I-Isabela! I-ah-I need more. I need—”

Hawke’s words were cut off by Isabela’s hand working its way in rough circles between her legs.

The magic began to pulse, sending shocks of energy through her.

Isabela worked her hand in time with the pulses, until a final surge pushed her over the edge.

Merrill removed the bands and Hawke’s back arched sharply as she cried.

Isabela kissed her deeply, moaning into her mouth as her own intrusion began to thrust.

“Yes, that’s…that’s so good.”

Hawke stared at the beautiful woman above her in awe, watching as her breasts shook slightly in time.

She licked her lips, pressing kisses to her peaks.

Isabela began to shake, losing strength in her arms.

Merrill quickly produced a series of vines, wrapping them around her and letting her hang from them, her arms and legs spread.

The shaft of light continued its onslaught, faster and harder.

Hawke watched as Merrill padded over, sitting beneath where Isabela was hanging in the air.

“Oh, shit. Oh, yes!”

She came, spilling her slick down her legs.

Merrill opened her mouth, letting some drops fall on her tongue.

Hawke slipped off the bed, feeling like her legs had turned to jelly.

She knelt in front of Merrill and kissed her, letting their tongues slip round one another.

Tasting Isabela, she groaned softly.

“Just as sweet as I remember.”

Merrill ran a finger through her own slick and placed it in Hawke’s mouth.

“How do I measure up?”

Hawke licked wet circles, letting it coat her mouth.

“Different, but no less delicious.”

Isabela had come to and laughed. “If you let me go, I’ll help return the favour. No magic on my end, though, I’m afraid.”

Merrill looked up with a start. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’d nearly forgotten.”

The vines retreated to wherever they’d come from, and Isabela landed on her feet, wobbling slightly.

Magic had always made her unsettled, but at least this was most definitely the good kind.

She knelt behind Merrill, holding her tightly.

“All yours, Hawke. You’ve been so good, waiting for us.”

Hawke bit her lip, pushing Merrill’s knees up and apart.

She pulled her smalls to one side and slipped two fingers in easily.

Merrill sighed, feeling Isabela’s caress from behind, and Hawke’s embrace from the front.

It felt safe. Like home.

“Ah! Hawke, I’m almost, right—ah!”

Merrill moaned as Hawke added a third finger, tapping gently with her thumb with each thrust.

“That’s right. Come for us, my darling.”

Hawke ground her hand furiously until Merrill cried out, burying her face in Isabela’s hair.

“That’s right.” She cooed softly, letting her hand still as the aftershocks settled.

Merrill leaned against Isabela’s chest, smiling softly.

“So, my love.” Hawke pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know _we_ had fun. But did you?”

“Best day…ever.” She chuckled weakly.

**Author's Note:**

> All kinks taken from @Ravensdelight on Twitter. You should follow them!  
> Enjoy!  
> As always, all constructive criticism and feedback is welcome.  
> I've very little experience writing smut of any kind, so I'd like to improve.


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